


Hinata, of the concrete

by OverexcitedDragon



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Being Walked In On, Dry Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Slut Shaming, Sweat, Verbal Humiliation, i wish i had written more sweat kink into it but this is what you get!!!, jut a lil just to put hinata in his place, no condoms we die like men, or at least almost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:35:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28592619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverexcitedDragon/pseuds/OverexcitedDragon
Summary: Wakatoshi was a sore loser with a sick obsession and a one track mind.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 37
Kudos: 252





	Hinata, of the concrete

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you notsafeforworse yet again for your beta reading even though you dont even watch HQ kjsfhsah

_Hinata of the concrete_ , he had said, with such conviction Wakatoshi was sure it burst out straight from the boy’s heart like a missile. And the meaning of it, too, _I came from nothing and I’ll still go farther than you ever will_.

It wasn’t a promise, it was a threat.

This tiny little thing, squealing his hopes and dreams at anyone who would hear (and who wouldn’t, really, Wakatoshi found out later there was little choice in the matter), regardless of how tall or powerful.

Shoyo Hinata. What a curious one.

Wakatoshi felt cursed since the moment he had met the boy. It seemed his thoughts never strayed too far from the little hurricane that was Shoyo Hinata, and his taunting words, and the conviction dripping from his piercing gaze…

It affected him. Affected his practice, affected his studies, affected his nights as he gazed up at the ceiling of his dorm room, so close he could almost touch it, but just far enough the tips of his fingers only seemed to graze it… so close, so _close_ …

But surely, _surely_ , like every other opponent that talked big, Hinata would be yet another one to fall under the crushing talons of Shiratorizawa’s eagle. The bigger the conviction, the taller the dreams, the heavier the fall. It was clear, it was obvious, the boy would lose his footing. Small and weak as he was, there was only so much jumping a little body like that could do, especially during a 5 set match.

Wakatoshi still thought so when the match started and the boy looked at him with a gaze so determined it froze the man.

He still thought so when they were on the 4th set and the boy’s determination seemed to only inflate by the second.

He _still_ thought so when they were 20 points into the 5th set deuce.

… And then they lost.

Wakatoshi saw Hinata’s eyes as they lost, saw the exhaustion and the bravery that wafted off him along the sweat and ache, saw the _Didn’t I tell you?_ dripping from the boy’s lips as he smiled.

Something clicked inside him.

Clicked and broke, shattered in a million pieces.

 _Conviction? Determination?_ No, the kid had something else, and Wakatoshi didn’t have a name for it quite yet. The formalities of the event passed by in a blur as he eyed the boy constantly, watched him, tried to speak to him alone… but crows walk in murders, especially the strongest ones.

 _I’m stronger than you_ , he wanted to say, childishly, pathetically. Knowing he was wrong.

Then he walked into the bathrooms, and there he was.

The tiny little bird, all alone, dripping with sweat and exhaustion, pouring tap water over his head and practically leaning against the sink.

It took Hinata a long time to realize he wasn’t alone.

It took Wakatoshi just about the same amount of time to realize what he wanted to do to him.

“H-hey, Ushijima-san--” the boy jumped, high pitched and flustered like a cornered animal. It pissed Wakatoshi off. _After winning? After proving your point? You’re gonna be scared?_

“Hinata of the concrete,” he started, stepping towards the kid. “I guess I don’t know as much about strength as I thought I did.”

Hinata jumped back like a deer in headlights, looking up, up, _up_ at Wakatoshi and reminding him, as he looked down at the boy, _ah, I’m still stronger, somehow_. Even if it didn’t feel real.

“D-do you wanna fight?”

He scoffed.

“My whole life I’ve been told I was strong. Unbeatable, even,” he crowded the boy against the far wall, and it was stupid, a dumb intimidation tactic that seemed to work way too well on someone who had just shattered his world. “And you swooped up, barely 160 centimeters, younger in every sense of the word, built like a tree branch, and changed all that in less than a day.”

The kid was frozen, shaking like a leaf. _Good_. Something about seeing Hinata scared outside the court felt wrong in all the right ways, made Wakatoshi’s sweat drip heavier.

He leaned his hand against the wall, over Hinata’s shoulder, looking down at him.

“I don’t wanna fight you.”

Even when he said it, it sounded like a lie. It didn’t convince the kid either.

“I just want…”

But he didn’t know.

To talk? To congratulate him? _To be stronger?_

No, he wanted to feel something that wasn’t failure, that wasn’t the crushing weight of his first real, genuine loss.

He stared down at the little body beneath him, weak in so many ways and yet capable of crushing a man’s life and dreams with a single jump and spike. The heat of their bodies made him feel like he was in the presence of the Sun itself… but something about Hinata’s shallow breathing and blown eyes made him wonder what the boy saw Wakatoshi as right then and there. A threat? A fiend?

It didn’t matter, not now when he had already lost, and the kid had already won.

“Ushijima--”

Wakatoshi’s hands seemed to move by themselves, but he was fully aware of what they were doing. It was calculated, every movement, every tensing muscle, every bending joint as he swept Hinata off his feet by the thighs and wrapped them around his middle, as he took three long steps towards the handicap bathroom, as he pressed the kid against the door to slam it shut…

As his lips pressed tight against Hinata’s to silence his yapping and tasted sweat and a drawn out, high pitched moan that made his brain melt and his heart explode.

“Ushijima-san--” The boy tried, but those short arms were wrapped around Wakatoshi’s neck and those strong legs were tight around his middle. “What-- we can’t--”

“Do you ever shut up or do your teammates just cope with it?” He found himself saying. Rude, impatient, _craving_. Breathing in the taste of Hinata’s lips just inches away.

That seemed to hit a bit too close to home. Hinata pouted childishly and murmured, “Fine. But I expect an apology afterwards.”

Good. So they were on the same page.

That tiny body felt like a furnace against his middle. He smelled of musk and sweat like a grown man, and yet Hinata acted like anything but. His lips were eager, his moans were earnest, and his hands all over the place-- Wakatoshi’s hair, back, shirt, chest, neck. There wasn’t an inch the boy could reach that he hadn’t touched. It felt like making out with an animal, raw and feral, viciously primal.

Wakatoshi licked deep into the kid’s mouth, drunk on every moan and every slide of spit slick lips, teeth clacking and biting, and the boy practically drooled around the kiss. Hinata’s hands pulled tight at his hair with shaky, filthy fingers that felt desperate, but not as desperate as the way the kid started humping Wakatoshi’s stomach.

 _Ah_ , how earnest, this little thing. So strong and capable, so full of conviction and bravery, the sun which his entire team seemed to revolve around, wearing every emotion on his sleeve, whether it was anger, joy, fear… or just the primal need to get off.

Hinata felt like he filled the room everywhere he went, and this was no different. Wakatoshi was bigger in every sense, but the way the boy moved, moaned, _begged_ , made it seem like he had taken over the whole bathroom. There was no hiding his needs or wants, Hinata was a hurricane of emotion and he took everything and everyone with him.

Even Wakatoshi. From the very first day he had met the kid.

He ground up against Hinata, felt the pressure of his trembling cock on the boy’s ass, and yet Hinata was the one who moaned loud and long like he _needed_ it.

“Fuck, Hinata,” Wakatoshi said, _begged_.

He carefully placed the boy back on the floor, desperate to feel that mouth elsewhere, and watched as Hinata fell in a heap on top of exhausted legs. Something about it made his breath catch and his bloor stir.

The boy was still groaning in pain and righting himself on his knees when Wakatoshi had pulled his cock out.

“Oh- _oh_. I mean--”

“Open.” He tapped the tip of his prick against the boy’s cheek. It wasn’t a suggestion.

Hinata seemed uncertain, but did so.

Spit slick pink lips that almost looked slathered with lip gloss opened as wide as they could, tongue gently covering the bottom row of teeth and pushing even more spit out. Wakatoshi would bet money the kid had done this before, and not just once either. Hinata’s eyes were uncertain, yes, but his whole body _screamed_ experience, or at the very least some sort of primal knowledge. A _this is how he wants me_ , kind of guy.

Wakatoshi grabbed Hinata by the hair and wasted no time sliding home, slowly inching past those flushed lips, over that velvet tongue, and down the tight throat that at first fluttered shut, and then seemed to open up completely. Trained, practiced. He bottomed out with a long groan, feeling that perfect little throat wrapped snugly around his cock.

“How many of your teammates have you sucked off?” He found himself asking, almost angrily.

Hinata didn’t reply, those piercing, intense eyes seemed to bore into Wakatoshi’s very soul, and it almost made him sick.

“I’m not judging. But this isn’t your first time.”

The boy blinked once, twince, slicked back his hair back with his fingers and then started silently working. Wrapped his little fingers around the base of Wakatoshi’s cock and moved his head back, twisting his wrist up and then back down to deepthroat him again, swallowing on the way down.

What an effective way to shut a man up.

Wakatoshi wasn’t talkative, but he suddenly felt like praying.

His large hands gently combed the kid’s hair back over and over again as Hinata bobbed his head in just the right side of too slow, acting like he had all the time in the world as he sucked the life out of Wakatoshi with every press of his tongue.

For some reason, it pissed him off.

He had been looking to frazzle Hinata, get him off his high horse, prove he wasn’t as strong outside the court… and yet, how pathetic, he was shaking against the stall door as the boy had a full course meal off his cock.

Wakatoshi gripped the bright orange strands tight, stilling the kid, and for a moment all the sound in the bathroom was his own ragged breathing.

And then, there it was, the ugly sound of Hinata retching as Wakatoshi thrusted home fast and hard.

Those little hands pushed at his thighs almost desperately as he set the pace, fucked the boy’s throat violently and watched Hinata’s eyes roll back. The hands gave up pretty soon, instead holding onto Wakatoshi’s shorts for some amount of purchase, his jaw went slack and his moans morphed into something wet and violated.

Good. _Good._ Wakatoshi much preferred Hinata like this. It suited him perfectly.

When he finally pulled out, the kid almost doubled over to vomit, but seemed to swallow it at the last second, hands desperately looking for purchase at the man’s legs. He sat back up against the stall door and Wakatoshi finally saw the extent of his damage. Spit and precum completely drenched his chin and chest, his lips looked raw and red, and his damp hair was wildly disheveled.

“At least…” Hinata swallowed, breathed in. “At least when I sucked them off they were a bit more gentle.”

“I’m not here to be gentle.” Wakatoshi snapped, but the meaning of the words only dawned on him after he had already said them.

Hinata’s eyes widened for just a moment before he was manhandled again, forced up on his wobbly legs and turned around to face the door.

“Wait-- wait _wait--_ ”

“Bend over, it’ll hurt less.”

“ _Ushijim--_ ”

But he was cut off by the fingers sliding under his shorts and immediately digging into him. Cut off by his own moan. How pathetic.

“You’re complaining so much,” Wakatoshi murmured against the kid’s ear, slowly pushing his finger deeper, one knuckle at a time. “But you’re not really tight enough for this to actually hurt.”

“You-- _uhn_ … you’re not… very nice…”

“I’m not here to be nice either.”

He started finger fucking Hinata, marvelling at how soft and loose the boy was, how easy it was to slide another finger in, how evidently the kid’s body betrayed his complaints.

Wakatoshi pushed Hinata’s shorts down haphazardly, and straightened up to properly watch the scene unveiling beneath him.

Hinata was so short he could actually rest his cock on top of the kid’s ass. He would have to bend his knees to fuck him like this. _Christ_. Wakatoshi wrapped a hand around himself while fingering the boy, slowly pulling at his prick as he stared, listened, measured himself against the length of the kid’s body.

It would fit. _He would make it fit_.

“C-con… _fuck_ , condom, please, _Ushijima--_ ” Hinata groaned out so pretty, but Wakatoshi wasn’t about to listen.

He pulled his fingers out slowly, watching as the pucker of the boy’s ass clinged red and puffy around his knuckles. Hinata moaned, complained about condoms some more, his hole twitched empty and begging… and Wakatoshi complied.

To the latter anyways.

He spit in between Hinata’s cheeks, rubbing it around and into his pucker with a trembling thumb as he lined himself up.

“Ushijim-- _ahn!_ ”

And it was the last of that pestering.

Wakatoshi pushed in slowly, excruciatingly so, watched the kid’s hole spread and cling to the angry red cockhead breaching him little by little, inch by inch, drawing out a moan so long and desperate Wakatoshi had to wonder if he was dreaming. It was warm, _tight_ like a vice, yet surprisingly accommodating, like Hinata’s ass was bespoke for his cock.

“Slow… _please…_ ” the kid keened, but it was hard to listen when Wakatoshi’s head was overtaken by the feeling of being wrapped by burning velvet heat, by the vision of his hands wrapped around Hinata’s tiny waist, thumbs touching, by the itch of sweat dripping from his forehead, down his nose bridge, splashing and pooling in the dip of the kid’s glistening hips.

“ _Ushijima-san, Ushi… ahh… hnn…_ ”

“Fuck, _Christ, Hinata_ ,” he practically moaned as he bottommed out.

It almost looked wrong, unreal, seeing himself sheathed into such a small boy, knowing Hinata’s stomach probably bulged with his length just to try and accommodate it all, watching as the ring of his ass twitched and squirmed around Wakatoshi’s cock, puffy and red and so tight he could almost feel the kid’s heartbeat.

He started pulling out, faster this time. His teammates would be looking for him soon, he needed to make this quick.

“Wait-- _wait, wait, wait!!_ ”

It was a wail, a wet plead that felt wonderful to ignore, even as Hinata’s hand moved back to squeeze and push at Wakatoshi’s arm, even as the boy’s face turned to finally look at him, eyes wet and glazed over, sweat dripping down his chin, mouth practically watering as he _keened_.

Wakatoshi felt himself smile. He pushed back inside with a hard thrust that drew a near scream from the kid, and watched his body spasm and his eyes roll up.

Ah. _Ah_.

“You came?”

He had to ask, really. He kept fucking Hinata, slow and steady, but growing faster, harder, more animal than man. “You just came from _that?_ ”

Tears streamed down the boy’s face, but he still moaned, jaw slack, eyes glazed, and the grip on Wakatoshi’s arm was more insistent now.

“Don’t-- _ah_ … don’t make… fun of… me… _uhnn_ …”

“I’m not.”

It was half a lie, but how could he seriously mock something that made his knees weaker, his chest tighter, made his cock twitch inside the kid? It was fucking beautiful. The boy who had ruined his life came just by having Wakatoshi’s cock inside him.

 _Fuck_ , maybe losing hadn’t been so bad.

Garbled moans and begs filled the bathroom with little concern over being heard, and the obscene slapping of sweat drenched skin on skin grew faster, more violent. The grip on Hinata’s waist was going to leave marks, and Wakatoshi marveled in the thought. It was all filthy, fast, animalistic, and it was _heavenly_.

Holding this tiny little body beneath him, showing Hinata where he belonged. Strength? _Winning?_ Wakatoshi just wanted to claim every inch of him. If Hinata was his, then maybe, _maybe_ , his victories would be Wakatoshi’s as well.

What a childish, pathetic thought.

His hand moved to pull Hinata’s hair, earning him a pretty whimper that sounded just a little like a _please_ , and fucked so deep and hard into the boy he was worried he would break something.

And then they heard the sound of the bathroom door opening.

Both boys froze, ragged breathing exorbitantly difficult to keep from breaking into desperate panting.

“Hinata?”

The boy’s hand squeezed Wakatoshi’s arm with a firm and nearly painful grip.

“I’m here, Kageyama,” Hinata said, surprisingly collected. “I’m coming out in a bit.”

“We were worried, you’re taking a while. Are you throwing up again?”

“No-- no, just a stomachache!”

The boy’s head hung from between his shoulders and his hand was flat against the door. It seemed to take everything in him to control his breathing. Wakatoshi felt the ring around his cock tightening, twitching.

He pushed in, slowly.

It earned him a blood drawing scratch on his arm. It also earned him a soft moan.

“Hinata… are you sure you’re okay? Should we get a do--”

“No, Kageyama, I’m okay! Promise! Just… I’ll be right out…”

A beat of silence fell over the bathroom, and Wakatoshi could see the way Hinata’s jaw was clenched so hard he might break a tooth. He still moved, still pushed slowly into the boy, still felt the nails digging into his skin, watched the tears falling from those glazed over brown eyes.

“Okay, fine, but don’t be too long, we gotta get going.”

“Yep! Yeah- _ah!_ Yes, I’ll be right out, just let everyone know I’m okay!”

When they heard the door close, both boys sighed loud and heavy. And then Wakatoshi bottomed out yet again, hard and fast and earning himself a pretty mewl.

“ _Ushijima-san, that was not--_ ” Hinata started, in a tone that implied anger. Which was adorable coming from such a small boy.

He pulled Hinata’s hair again, bent his back until he heard vertebrae popping, and the _moan_ … it sounded so lovely Wakatoshi couldn’t help but moan back.

“Just stay still, I’ll be quick so you can get back to them soon…”

It was all the warning Hinata got before being fucked within an inch of his life. Somehow being almost walked in on just made Wakatoshi more worked up, pushed him closer to the edge…

Was that what he wanted? Someone else to see Hinata like this? Bend over and split open on the cock of the man he humiliated? What a sore, filthy loser he was… 

It didn’t matter now.

Wakatoshi leaned over Hinata, slowly licked the sweat running down the back of the boy’s neck as he fucked violently into that little body, felt every muscle rippling against his chest, drank in every moan and whine that poured out of those red, used lips.

He twisted Hinata’s neck to slot their lips into a messy, uncomfortable kiss, tasting the sweat and tears that had pooled into the depths of that perfect little mouth. Hinata keened, kissed back desperately for a moment before trying to pull back, fighting against Wakatoshi’s grip.

“Ushijima, not inside-- _ahn, fuck, fuck, no, not--uhnn_ …”

Wakatoshi looked into those wet brown eyes filled with pleasure and fear and grinned. Gritted teeth, hips jackhammering, and the heat in his gut pooled, warmed him up like a goddamn furnace.

“You’re telling me Karasuno’s whore has an ass this loose but is too scared to get it dirty?”

“No, _I’m-- ahh, Ushi-- no, don’t--_ ”

“Just stay still, be a good kid and stay still for me.”

Whimpers, sobs, and moans muddled together in a mixed bag of emotions that Wakatoshi didn’t care to think about.

This wasn’t about Hinata.

This was about _him_.

With one last thrust that knocked the air out of the boy’s lungs, Wakatoshi felt the heat pouring from his gut and dripping into his veins hot like boiling water, drowning every thought in his head as he spilled deep inside Hinata with a low, guttural groan.

Everything about it was filthy, it reeked of musk and tasted like copper, the position was uncomfortable at this point and their clothes stuck on sweat drenched skin… but _god_ it still felt like heaven to finally fill up the little brat to the brim.

Their breathing was ragged and much too loud. Wakatoshi’s blurred vision seemed to tunnel, eyes on every detail of Hinata’s body under his. The kid looked exhausted, like the only thing keeping him up was the man’s grip on his waist, and if he wasn’t careful Hinata would surely collapse and fall asleep on the bathroom floor.

Sweat pooled in the dip of the boy’s lower back, a tiny little puddle that shook with every ragged deep breath, and Wakatoshi realized with some sick satisfaction it was mostly his own.

He didn’t want to pull out, to pull his pants back up, to see Hinata off and then have to get back to a life without this little hurricane of a boy. To get back to a life where he had lost…

“Ushi...jima...san…” Hinata mewled… “I think I might overheat… please…”

It finally dawned on him how much heat they both radiated, it felt like standing in front of an open oven on a Summer day.

He supposed it would be troublesome if Hinata passed out.

Slowly, Wakatoshi pulled out of the kid, watching as his cum oozed out almost immediately, staining Hinata’s trembling thighs. He stared, mesmerized, at the white sap rolling lazily down glistening skin as he tucked himself back into his shorts.

“Ushijima-san…”

He snapped out of it, looking up at the boy.

“Can you… pull my shorts back up… please…?” Hinata mumbled, almost too low to hear. “I can’t really… move…”

Ah, Wakatoshi almost smiled. Hinata was frozen to the spot, almost unable to move, and definitely unable to bend over to fetch his shorts.

He hummed out in a positive tone and squatted with some difficulty. But, ah, _ah_ , the view from that angle was even better.

Hinata could wait a handful more seconds.

Wakatoshi’s fingers gently touched those strong little thighs, felt the shaking of every muscle beneath his finger, felt the slide of skin over a layer of sweat, and slowly dragged his fingers upwards, watching as his own cum was gently pulled up, up, back where it belonged…

“What are y-- _ah!_ ”

It was more of a squeal than a moan, but it didn’t matter how much Hinata enjoyed this or not. Wakatoshi stuffed his cum stained fingers back into the red, twitching pucker, deep into that tight hole. It felt like a _vice_ around his fingers, it was a wonder he had even fit inside at all…

“Stop… I need to _go…_ ” Hinata begged, _sobbed_. And it sounded a lot prettier than when he was happy.

Wakatoshi pulled the boy’s shorts up, uselessly tucked the sweat drenched shirt into them just to have a few more precious seconds of his hands over the kid’s body, and helped Hinata straighten up.

The kid didn’t look very amused. He looked _exhausted_ , worn out in every possible way.

Maybe now he had finally understood how it felt to lose something precious.

Hinata walked out of the stall slowly, shaky, looking ready to collapse.

“Good match.”

It was said as a last dig, a last ditch effort to bruise the boy’s pride. Yet it seemed to have the opposite effect.

Hinata turned around and stuck out his tongue like an angry child, then spoke in a clear and proud tone, “Told you I’d win.”

And slammed the door on the way out.

Wakatoshi turned to look at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess, his shirt clung disgustingly to his body, sweat running down his thighs made it look like he had wet himself, and his arm was bleeding from what were clearly scratch marks.

He scoffed at himself.

He _was_ a loser. And he looked the part, too.


End file.
